Animal
by HerNamewasAlice
Summary: He wondered who was the real animal in this - him or her. Perhaps they were both animals... Bruce/Zatanna (Must Read the Author Notes, important) (COMPLETE)
1. Running in Circles

**A/N: Okay so, this might seem familiar because this was in my drabble collection "Tell Me You Love Me."**

**I decided to give a separate story for Bruce/Zatanna drabbles to run free and independently. I realized that doing a drabble collection was the worst thing for me and readers/followers. I frequently update and so it's hard for people to keep up with the story when I change the characters.**

**If you read the chapter with Bruce/Zatanna drabble in the drabble collection, skip this chapter and go on to chapter two. **

**Sorry about it.**

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**Running in Circles**

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Gossamer raven hair - long and sleek to drape her face - to supplement the creaminess of her smooth skin - rose red lips, piercing blue eyes. Beautiful as she was; it wasn't her physical appearance that drew him to her. It was her personality -she was a strange combination of innocence and maturity. The way she spoke with charm, grace, confidence - and the sharpness of her tongue - he couldn't help but to be intrigued by her. She was unlike all the other women he had encountered. She was comfortable in her own skin. From constantly analyzing her, he concluded that she knew that she was attractive but saw it as nothing. She was free from insecurities and was very opinionated. The girl with piercing blue eyes was much younger than him; more than half his age but she wasn't afraid to challenge him mentally. Most were intimidated by him, both sides of him, but she wasn't terrified of any side. She wasn't afraid to look at him in the eyes or to speak her mind. She spoke to him with ease and spoke with wisdom beyond her years.

She was unusual.

Peculiar.

Strange.

Only an angel could be so unusual.

This trait about her only made him attracted to her even more. He knew that he shouldn't think about her in this way but no matter how many times he reminded himself, he always found his heart running back to her. No matter how hard he tried, he was always going back in the same pattern. Countless women. Drowning himself with numerous women and affairs and yet it was worthless. His feelings for her never died, it only became stronger. Running in circles. Always returning to the start. This infatuation - this sick infatuation, was sin. Demented as it was, he couldn't stop wanting her.

Someone so wonderful, so beautiful, he knew was lonely. The most beautiful creatures were the one that needed the most love. They were the most lonely in the world.

"So are you saying that you need love too?" she asks with a mischievous smirk. She still look so graceful. Underneath the light, she was luminous, her skin almost like marble. They were alone in the Souvenir Room, the only thing to fill the emptiness were the props on the shelves.

He glared at her. "Don't change the subject. I'm talking about you."

"Are you sure about that? After all you said the most beautiful are the most lonely." She circled him and gave him a smile. His smile was unreadable to her. He wasn't sure if she was taunting him or begging him. She was always unreadable to her. "You're lonely and I'm lonely too. You need someone the way I need someone."

He grabbed her by the wrist to hold her down from walking. "Don't play games," his tone became firm. She didn't blink, she remained placid and relaxed. Her eyes were so serene but he felt himself being burned from looking at them. Never in his life did he felt so tempted before. "I'm talking about you. This needs to stop. Now," his narrowed at her. "It's not appropriate for you to flirt with me."

She moves her head inwards to her shoulder and then stood tall. "Whoever told you that I was flirting with you?" she's being coy but her tone was innocent. How dangerous it was...how dangerous...she was the only person that could mess with his emotions and mind... how dangerous...how dangerous it was...

They both knew that she flirted with him. She did not hide it to him. She openly exchanged winks and secret smiles - secret smiles that he couldn't help but to find seductive. "You're lonely. I understand since you lost your father but you're becoming confused, Zatanna." He could not help but to be at fault for this. Since the whole thing happened with Dr. Fate and her father, Bruce was her comfort and she became dependent on him. He did not stop her growing dependence at first. He wanted her to feel safe - to have someone. He showed her compassion when there was no one. Conflicted feelings emerged and it caused her to want him to be permanent in her life. "You want someone in your life to replace the emptiness that you feel but you don't need a boyfriend. You need a father figure. You have to stop this now before it gets out of hand."

"I'm not confused," she shook her head. She was pale, her smile was wiped from her face. She always lost herself when they spoke about her father. "I'm not," her voice cracked. She shook her again. His hand loosened his grip on her wrist for her to wipe the developing tears from her eyes. "I liked you before any of it happened. Don't assume that you manipulated me to want you. Maybe I was the one that manipulated you?"

"Zatanna, you have to stop this," his voice lowered. "You can't continue this, it's not healthy for yourself."

"I'm not a child," she locked her eyes on the slits of his mask. "You don't have to analyze me and feed me how I should feel. I know how I feel and I know myself. I'm not confused. I know what I want, but do you?"

His skin tightened from her words.

"You think-you think" her voice was breaking from frustration. "You think that I'm oblivious to how you always look at me? Even though you look when I'm not looking, I can feel your stare on me. I always feel it when you look at me." Her voice became soft. "I like it when you look at me. This cold, strong force. Undeniable. Powerful. Nearly consuming me." He could feel his heart beating. "You can deny how you feel about me but you can't deny how I feel. You can't change how I feel but I can change how you feel about me."

He remained silent.

She shook her head. "I'm not the one playing games. You know that I want you and I know that you want me but why do you keep denying it? Why-why," she was shaking, taken by her frustration. She took a moment to pause to regain her speech. "Why do deny it? Why do you make yourself suffer? It's like you're mutilating yourself. Is it so wrong to be with me?"

"You know the answer."

She stared at him. Unlike the others, she could see each layer of him - each side - each aspect. However, she wasn't looking at the other layers. She was focused on his outer layer - the layer he wanted everyone else to believe. "You try to make everyone believe that you're this cold and heartless person, but you're not. You can try to convince me that you don't care but I know you, I know you more than you want me to." She touched his arm but he moved away from her. Her eyes lowered. "Even if you do cave in, you would tell me I'm too young but there are many women in their thirties that have a mentality of a five year old. To me, age doesn't matter. I might be younger than you but I'm not the one playing games." She looked at him with disappointment.

He watched her walk away from him. He felt his chest constricting. This attraction for her - this disgust with himself for being so - his friendship with her father - his loyalty to protect her - the morality of what was - was devouring him whole. "Zatanna," he heard himself call for her. He did not plan to call out for her. The words slipped from his mouth.

He didn't know what he want.

She turned around and looked at him with blank eyes. They stared at each other, a distance in between them. He did not where he was going. The circle he had been running for a long time had suddenly changed route. She was the one to break the barrier. She walked to him and stood on her toes and looked up at him. "What is it?" she asked.

He did not say anything but stared into her eyes.

He was sure that time had stopped.

He couldn't find anyone like her - she was interesting. She knew how to leave him perplexed and speechless. She was intuitive. Elegant. Charming.

"Here," she whispered to his lips. She placed her hand behind his neck and pulled him down to a kiss.

He was quick to break the kiss. He took a step back and stared at her, stunned by her subtlety.

She smirked to herself and smiled at him. "I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself, tie my shoes and everything," she lightly teased, giving him a wink.

He frowned. How could she remain so relaxed? "You shouldn't have done that."

She raised her eyebrows to display her disinterest.

He felt his body leaning towards her - his hand gently cupping her face. She smiles softly at him and sighs. "Shouldn't have," his voice was low. His eyes lowered as his free hand brought her closer to him. He lost his control. He was unable to restrain himself. He was living his fear now. "Shouldn't," he said again, more softly. He did not know that living this fear would feel like this...so...so...satisfying.

He kissed her.


	2. Recollecting

**Recollecting**

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_Takes place alone at night in Justice League headquarters.  
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He underestimated her abilities. She's gotten him pressed against the wall. She holds down his forearms so securely - there was no way he could escape. Maybe...maybe he didn't want to. Maybe that was why he was barely putting up a fight. "Can I have a kiss?" she pleaded in a calm, soothing manner. Her voice was refined and innocent. Her eyes are eating him senseless. She gives him a sweet, shy smile.

"No." He glared at her.

"You're no fun," she frowned, amused by his remark. She released him and took several steps back.

"You're making a fool of yourself," he was growling underneath his breath. He's confused with himself - his emotions - what he wanted. They kissed the other day and he wasn't sure what to think. He was conflicted - he didn't know if he should feel relieved and satisfied or ashamed for letting himself take advantage of her.

She had a smug look on her face. "Funny, I was about to say the exact thing too," she smirked. "About you yesterday." She throws herself at him and tilts his head down to her. He could feel his body stiffened from her boldness. No woman ever had such a strong affect on him before. He hated it - hated how she had him wrapped around her finger. She flashed a pair of flirtatious eyes at him. "You kept on calling my name and begging me to kiss you more - it was cute," she giggled. His cheeks redden from embarrassment and anger.

He pushed her away and glared at her. She wasn't intimidated though. She was the only person that wasn't intimidated by him. She was smiling cheekily, her hands on her hips - taunting him. The muscle in his jaw was twitching, frustrated by her playfulness. "Listen to me," his voice is sharp and hard. "What happened yesterday was a mistake and it_ won't _happen again. Do I make myself clear?" each word was precise.

"Ah," she mocked him. She was unaffected by his threat. "I see," she nodded, mocking him even more. "So you're trying to say something aren't you?"

He couldn't help but to find her tone to be charming. Disgusted - he should be disgusted with himself. He shouldn't find her attractive. He shouldn't let himself be manipulated by her. "Zatanna, I'm being serious." His teeth are gritted together, trying to control his temper. He stopped her hand from touching his face. "Stop this, _now_."

"I will once you do," she chuckled. She batted her eyelashes and gave him a secret smile. Seductive - she was seductive.

His grip on her wrist tightened. "Stop this, you're too good to throw yourself at me."

"And you're too good not to accept what you want," she whispered to his lips. Without thinking, he licked his lips. He wanted to taste her. "Why torture yourself when the feelings are mutual?"

He shook the thought and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Zatanna, you're only sixteen."

"I'm aware of my age," her tone was coy.

He sighed. "I'm thirty-four."

"I'm aware of that as well," she chuckled, grinning.

This argument was a losing battle. Nothing seemed to dull the sharpness of her tongue and quick wit. He cleared his throat, "Stop this right now."

She slipped her hand from his grasp. "Oh," she laughed, flicking her long hair out of her face. "I can stop it anytime I want to," her eyes glimmered. "But can you?"

He went pale from her words.

"Can you stop yourself from what you want? Or do you expect me to stop yourself?"

He was silent, unable to answer her.

She shook her head, placing a finger over his closed lips. "You don't even have to say a word." She grabbed his frozen hand and interlocked her fingers with his. His skin tightened...she wasn't smiling anymore...she looked so sad...

Memories replay in his mind:

_ "Tell me what you want," her voice was low. She wasn't playing around anymore. Her eyes were starting to water and her lips were quivering. "Yesterday, you said you wanted to be with me - and now you're taking it back? You can't do this to me - you can't expect me to go along with what you want. You can't just kiss me and then expect me to push my feelings away so you can feel better about yourself." She shook her head. "You can't." She let go of his hand and frowned. "You can't. I told you before. Don't treat me like a child. You can't toy with my emotions and expect me to forget about them. Don't play games with me because I'm not going to play games with you."_

_He was frozen._

_"If you want to be with me, you have to tell me and you can't take it back. I won't wait for you forever to decide if you do." _

_He watched her walk away and he didn't let her stop._

_Perhaps it was better this way._

He kisses her then; both in the past and now. He doesn't like the idea of making her hurt or going back to the way things were. He breaks the kiss to stroke her hair - to analyze her - to try to read her thoughts. She was unreadable much to his dismay. He knew how she felt but he wanted to know what she was thinking. His fingers brush against her skin - nearly leaving indents on her face. Her skin is warm - flushed and tinted to the color of his crimson bed sheets. His face remained expressionless and his eyes were distant as ever. He didn't know why he did that - doing something out of impulse. He swore to himself that he wasn't going to allow anything to happen between them.

She takes his hand and presses it against her cheekbone. She leaned closer to him and smiled. "See, that wasn't so hard was it?" her fingers curled around his fingers.

He frowned.

"I take that as a yes," she chuckled to herself softly. "Let's make that frown go upside down," she whispers, going on her tiptoes.

He finds himself leaning downwards to meet her lips again but this time without any refusal. She's gotten underneath his skin and numbing any circulation from getting to his head.

She's trouble.

Nothing but trouble.

She's rebellious but carries herself to be gracious.

Numbs people's morality with her charm.

Unpredictable.

Wild.

Intelligent.

Beautiful.

She's out of control and the more he's near her... he wants to be the same...

He finally found his weakness.

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_**Next Drabble to Come!**_

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**A/N: Again, I apologize for the inconsistency of "Tell Me You Love Me."  
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**For people that liked the Dick/Cassie drabble in "Tell Me You Love Me." Check out their own drabble story collection called "Figure Eight." Figure Eight has a drabble collection with their age gap and "Cold Coffee" has a drabble collection with them being the same age.**

**NEXT BRUCE/ZATANNA WOULD BE CALLED _KISSES._**

**Please review!**


	3. Flowers

Flowers. He bought her flowers.

"What's the occasion?" she asked. She took the flowers and smelled them. Roses. They were roses. Four dozen long stemmed red roses. Despite the common perception of her, she wasn't really the romantic type.

No.

Not at all.

He looked at her with a stern expression. They were at five star hotel, their faces bare for one another. Despite it, she could barely see his face. The shadows masked him the way his mask did.

She smiled to herself. "Thank you though," she said through his silence. She settled the huge bouquet on the nightstand and sat down on the bed. She smoothed out the wrinkles of the sheets, trying to get him to join her but he chooses to still stand.

"It's for our one month anniversary." He wanted to tell her he wanted to get her a diamond bracelet and wasn't sure what set she wanted the bracelet.

He's cold.

Stoic.

Heartless.

But she knew he was hurt.

"Really?" she frowned. She didn't want to see what he would get her if they were together for six months let alone a whole year. "Really? I mean, of course I knew but you don't seem to be the kind of person that celebrates those kinds of things." Frankly to her, celebrating a month being together seemed rather foolish. A month was barely enough time. At least a year." If I had known you were giving me something, I would have gotten you a gift."

"I think I can manage a year not receiving a tie," he said dryly. He has no expression, he's blank as a chalkboard but she knew he was upset. He's closed but he was an open book. Even when he wasn't speaking, she knew what he was thinking.

She laughed. She stood up and placed her hands on his broad, muscular shoulders. She didn't know what she liked him better in - him in his Batman costume - or him in his dark suit and tie. She chuckled and kissed him. "Someone's mad," she teased.

He frowned deeper and turned his head away from her. "I don't know what you're talking about," his voice is hoarse.

"Uh huh," she whispered to his jaw line. She's taunting him and she knows he hates it. "_You're not mad_," she mocked. Of course he was mad. He was either mad or moody. She batted her eyes at him, giving the look of innocence. He pulls back and stares at them - unable to pull away. "I'm sorry, okay? Can we still be friends?" she asked playfully, kissing his cheek.

His eyes flickered but he lets her kiss him. "Stop manipulating me."

She was his Kryptonite.

His weakness.

He's too stubborn to admit it or his feelings towards her but he doesn't have to. She already knows how feels about her. He liked that about her - how she could read him so easily but at the same time he despised it.

"You know that you didn't have to get me anything." Her lips travel to the sensitive spot on his ear.

"I wanted to. And it's actually an accomplishment."

"An accomplishment?" she took a step back and raised her eyebrow. "Do tell," she said, amused to what he had to say.

He smirked. "This is my longest relationship."

"Longest?" she raised her eyebrow. She known several girls her age with relationships that go left and right but a month - a month was too short. "It's only been a month."

"And that's long by my standards."

She chuckled. Their relationship was everything but healthy and ideal. "Well it better last longer than that."

He nodded, slightly smiling. Slightly. He doesn't do smiling but she smiles enough for the both of them. "I would have gotten you more personal but it's too soon for me to know."

She finds this to be entertaining. They had known each other for two years and he was always analyzing her. "But isn't Batman a detective?"

"Very so but he's having trouble decoding a certain young magician. She's very unattainable, unpredictable, and mysterious but with the information he had gathered, he knows a few things about her."

"Is that so?" she became interested in his words. "Do tell me." She touched his face and gave him a wink.

"She hates chocolate. She loves to ride on motorcycles. She likes to run whenever she can. And she loves to read. She can read eight five hundred page books in just one day. And her favorite book is Les Misérables. Even though the book was over a thousand pages, she finished it all in one day with time to spare. She can't stand watching romantic movies - not even a minute of it. She loves action. She loves adventure."

She smiled crookedly, her eyes were shining. She was pleased about how much he knew about her. No one knew anything about her. They just see her face and they automatically characterize her to be some boring, stereotypical teenage girl - the kind that was shallow and petty. Zatanna wasn't like that at all. She was above it. She was above it ever since she lost her father. "With all your information you have collected, I would think you would know me better than that. I wouldn't get you a tie as a gift. It's too cliché. It's dull. It's predictable."

Almost as predictable as flowers.

Too boring but it was the thought that counts.

"What would you do if you got me something?" he raised his eyebrow.

She grinned. She grabbed him by the tie and yanked him downwards to meet her face. "Oh," she pursed her lips. "I wouldn't get you anything materialistic." She uses all her strength to throw him on the bed. She climbs on top of him - pinning him down so he doesn't try to dominate her. He lets her. She knows well that he does but she likes the show. She likes the idea of dominating him from time to time. She grabs his face and smiled momentarily. She flashed him a smirk. "It will be even better than anything you could buy at a store." She's pulling his clothes off, her fingers ripping through the buttons of his silk shirt. His dark eyes are piercing her skin - nearly stabbing her and cutting her flesh open from the intensity of his stare. She likes this. She likes it when he looks at her. She likes feeling her skin tighten - her body becoming chilly. "It would be personal and deep. It'll be something you will cherish."


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